Chapter Four: The Stages of Grief

I get up when my alarm blares at six-thirty, which causes Iana to stir immediately thereafter. I shove my comforter aside and get up and out of bed, flipping on the light and crossing over towards her crib. I lift her effortlessly, putting her onto the changing table and taking her out of her sleep onesie. Once I ascertain that a clean diaper is in order, I whip it off and clean her, before replacing it with a clean one. I then lean down and kiss her forehead, preoccupying her as I sanitize my hands and select an outfit for her that day.

Autumn had officially begun over the weekend, and now Iana could officially dig into her autumn wardrobe—supplemented by me for the last several weeks. I grabbed a pair of brown leggings, as well as a long-sleeved brown dress, for her to wear, along with a pair of brown baby Mary Jane shoes. Once I got her dressed, I lay her down on the center of my bed, digging into my closet and finding a black dress, tights, heels, and a sweater for myself to wear. I dressed quickly, not wanting Iana to take a fall off her bed, before replacing the provisions in her baby bag and gathering my own things. Once the important documents on the Farris case were organized accordingly, I put them in my own bag, before putting both bags over my shoulder and carrying Iana in my arms as I headed downstairs.

"Morning," I called as I entered the kitchen, putting the bags onto the couch and trooping into the kitchen. I kissed Liam's forehead and put Iana in her highchair, heading to the fridge to get out a bottle for her. "Good night?" I asked Ian as he sipped a cup of coffee. "You and Trev were out pretty late..."

"Yeah, fine," Ian replied, scrolling through his phone.

"Something interesting?" I asked, getting a couple cereal bars down from the cabinet for my breakfast before crossing back to Iana. I sat in front of her and positioned her bottle accordingly, and I smiled as she attempted to reach up and grab it herself.

Ian shrugged. "Just checking traffic reports. If there's a big accident, I'll probably end up being called in early..."

"Good to be prepared," I put in, turning to regard Liam. "Smaller bites, little man—we don't want you choking."

Liam grinned. "Okay," he replied, taking smaller bites.

"Hey, it's Monday, right?" Ian asked.

I sat up straighter in my chair, knowing it would be easier on my back if I made an attempt to sit correctly while assisting Iana with her morning feed. "Yeah. Why?"

"Good, just wondering," Ian replied. "It's a day where you take Liam to school and drop off Iana at daycare..."

I nodded. "Per our agreement," I replied. "Of course, we also agreed to open up the negotiation of Liam getting himself to school, once he starts middle school..."

"Maybe," Ian said, looking unsure. "It's not the same as it was when we did it..."

I smirked. "Hey, the public transportation system in Seattle wasn't all bad. If you got a good route for your day, it worked out pretty well..."

Ian laughed. "I always thought you'd be a part of a carpool..."

"You would think so," I replied, giving up with Iana and taking her out of her high chair again, grabbing a towel from the counter and draping it across my lap. "But carpools," I went on, laying her down, her bottle in her mouth, "were for children with friends."

"You really didn't have any friends?"

"Uh, no," I replied, rolling my eyes, for before I reached the age of twenty-one, I'd barely had a normal interaction with anyone. "I was that freak who read Tort and constantly wanted to be left alone. I was the very definition of anti-social. I didn't receive it until I was twenty-one. I didn't have a drink until I was twenty-one, or a cigarette." I shrugged my shoulders, looking down at Iana for a moment. "I didn't realize that I could have a baby until I was twenty-one..."

"Seems that, moving back here, got you some pretty good experiences."

I looked up at Ian. "Well, yeah. I found my family, and found that piece of myself I constantly thought was missing over the years... It's a good feeling, I think."

Ian nodded then, setting his phone aside and reaching across the table, stealing one of the cereal bars I'd pulled from the cabinet. "And your weekend?"

"What about my weekend?"

"Lots of late-night conversations starting on Friday," he said, a wry smile appearing on his lips as I shook my head at him. "Something you want to talk about?"

"No."

"Really?"

I bit my lower lip, raising one of my shoulders, as I often did when I was unsure of how to bring up something. "I... I mean, I may have... I mean, Josh, he... Josh and I ran into each other on the day of Iana's appointment."

"Oh," Ian said, chewing. "Really?"

"Yeah...and he may have finally asked me out..."

Ian stopped chewing for a moment. "That's fantastic!"

"And I told him I'd think about it, and then I had to run back to the office," I said, sighing as I remembered what had happened.

"Nicholas still there?"

"Yep," I replied. "And boy, when he found out, it messed him up..."

"What do you mean?"

"Um..." I said, turning to look at Liam, who was just finishing his cereal. "Liam, why don't you run upstairs and read a little bit before school, okay, sweetie?"

"Okay!" Liam trilled, getting to his feet and putting his cereal bowl and spoon into the dishwasher, before heading upstairs.

"He slashed his hand all up in a plastic water cup," I replied, and Ian's eyes widened at the rather shocking behavior. "He was beyond angry when Josh came up, and when I told him I said yes to going out with him."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I found a first-aid kit and cleaned him up," I said quietly, looking down and seeing that Iana had just finished her bottle, whereupon I transferred the towel to my shoulder, and raised her up to burp her. "It's what any good person would do, really... And then, as I was leaving, I saw him with Rachel again..."

"Again?"

"They may have been in the staff lounge together...and I got Rachel to leave by telling her that Iana was there," I said quietly, gently rubbing Iana's back. "And so, when I left, I told Josh that I'd go out with him. I mean, I know admittedly it looks like I did it because I was jealous of Rachel and Josh, but..."

"But what?"

I shrugged, getting to my feet and putting Iana in her day bed. "Oh, I don't know. I mean, I know deep down that Josh deserves a shot, at least. He's a perfect gentleman, and he doesn't have a record, and he likes Iana..."

"You sound like a broken record, Murph."

I sighed, getting to my feet again and returning to sit across from Ian. "Well, I guess it's also because sex hasn't complicated things with us," I replied. "I mean, something always happens with someone I sleep with..."

"For example?" Ian asked, amused.

I scoffed. "Well, Dr. Normal caught me with Jessica. Lip and I turned out to be brother and sister. Mickey was your ex and he's as gay as they come. And with Nicholas..." I leaned back against the chair and stared up at the ceiling. "He's anything but a gentleman, and there's a record of assault in his past, and I can't risk that, not with Iana..."

"But do you like him?"

"I like Josh," I said, turning to look at him then, my voice firm. "I like Josh, and he and I are figuring out our schedules for a first date."

Ian nodded. "Who are you trying to convince, Murph?"

I blinked, picking up the remnants of my cereal bar and biting off another section. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean, who are you trying to convince about you liking Josh? Me or you?"

I lowered my eyes. "I don't have to convince anyone. I like him, and he likes me, and I'm going to go out with him, and that's that."

. . .

I arrived at the firm after dropping off Iana at daycare and Liam at school, having just enough time to get hot teas for Rachel and Cindy that morning. Stepping into the lobby and then to the assistant area, I handed over the teas, grinning at them both. Cindy was taking a phone call, so she merely thanked me, but Rachel handed over my messages with a flourish, apparently thinking I was in the mood to speak that day.

"Good weekend?" she asked.

I nodded, digging my hair out of the collar of my coat. "Amazing," I replied, sipping at my hot chocolate, which was still hot. "Lots of late night phone calls..."

"Oh, yeah?" Rachel wanted to know, sipping her tea.

I nodded, leaning in closer. "Josh, that doctor I told you about?"

"Yeah?" Rachel asked, grinning.

"Well, he asked me out on Friday," I replied, "just after Iana's appointment."

"Finally!" she cried.

I nodded. "Yeah, finally," I said.

"Well, did you say yes?"

I laughed then, not caring about my volume, for once. "I did," I replied. "I said yes, and our first date is next Tuesday. He just texted to confirm this morning."

Rachel clapped her hands. "Murphy, I'm so happy for you!"

"Thank you," I replied, checking the time. "Oh, I'd better head to my office. As you know, I have a few calls to make," I tossed over my shoulder, waving to her before heading down the hallway and into my office.

I opened the door and flicked on the lights, shutting the door behind me and making my way over towards my desk. Setting my things down, I texted Ian and Josh, letting them know I'd gotten to the firm all right that morning and was very busy until lunch, but that I could possibly squeeze in a few texts during that time. I put my lunch into my mini-fridge, planning on a labor-intensive workout that day—I had managed to find out information about the early life of Paul's wife, Pamela, and about her situation in becoming a member of the Farris family.

I cross-checked my references countless times over the next three hours, making sure that everything would be in good order before I sent it to Nicholas to add it to our case file. As I worked, I kept my head down and eyes focused, only taking a half-an-hour break for lunch at around twelve-thirty. As I was leaving the office at three, I wanted to get all of Pamela's early life together—back when she was only Pamela Greene—and discovered quite a few interesting things about the Farris family.

There was a girl in the media—called Tabitha St. James—who had told her social media platforms more than once that she had been a child Pamela Farris. Tabitha had been given up for adoption at the age of ten, for no reason, and I wondered why that was. I went into a web search, Googling Tabitha, and wanting to get to the bottom of why she was rejected from the family after a solid decade.

"Hey, guys, Tabby here," Tabitha said, as she did at the beginning of all her videos. "I wanted to tell you about my birth family, as it has been told to me. According to some records, it seems as though I'm the biological daughter of Johnson and Pamela Farris, making me the younger sister of Paul Farris, and the aunt of Jackie Farris. I don't really know the circumstances that surround my birth or conception, just my birth certificate, which lists Johnson and Pamela as my father and mother respectively. Suffice it to say that my journey into my self-discovery is not over, and once I have information, I'll share it with you. Thanks guys. Bye!"

Immediately, I grabbed my cell phone and pulled up the number for the firm's private investigator, knowing that we had to take this plunge. "This is Murphy Gallagher," I said into the phone, once they had picked up.

"How may I help you, Miss Gallagher?"

"I want all the information you can get on the internet celebrity, Tabitha St. James," I replied, not wanting to sound too eager.

"Sure," they replied.

"They claim to be the daughter of our murdered client, and that their mother is the mother of the triggerman," I said quietly.

"Can do, Miss Gallagher. Shall I make contact at any time?"

"Not until we have all the necessary information. Nicholas Blomqvist and I will decide from there if making contact is necessary. If this is just a hoax for views, then, of course, no contact will be necessary, although we will issue a cease and desist."

"Of course, Miss Gallagher. Shall Mr. Blomqvist be privy to this?"

"No," I replied. "If, as I said, it turns out to be a hoax, he doesn't need to know."

"Understood. I'll begin my search today, and let you know if I find out anything by the end of this week, or by early next week."

"That will be fine. Thank you."

"Have a good day, Miss Gallagher."

"You, too," I reply, hanging up.

I kept at my work, counting down the minutes until I had to pick up Liam and Iana again, and for me to return home. Since I'd accomplished such a big shopping trip over the weekend, I wouldn't have to go to the store again until the following day, or Wednesday, which was a giant relief to me. I'd decided to make some form or other of casserole that night, and Fiona was coming over to help with Iana and to stay for dinner, as Ian was working late, so that, in itself, was something to look forward to.

It was after two when I heard footsteps outside my office, and then suddenly my door came open then, and I immediately got to my feet, Nicholas standing there. He hesitated for a moment before he shut the door behind himself, and he looked as if he was unsure of what to say. He stood his ground as I walked around my desk then, knowing that, ultimately, there shouldn't be anything between us any longer—physically or emotionally.

"What is it?" I asked, breaking the silence.

He sighed. "Talked to Rachel."

"Yeah?" I asked, gripping the edge of my desk. "How'd that go?"

"She..." He stopped for a moment, obviously trying to calm himself down, and not to yell at me, as he so liked to do. "She said you told Josh you'd go out with him."

I found myself automatically pulling my bottom lip into my mouth, feeling immediately ill at ease with the situation. "Well, you were going to hear it eventually..."

"Oh, Jesus, Murphy!" Nicholas said, dragging his hands through his hair. "Come the fuck on right now! Are you serious?!"

I sighed. "I told you it was going to happen, Nicholas."

"Yeah, but I never expected it to..." He broke off then, raising his eyes to mine. "How do you feel about him?"

I shrugged. "I like him, I guess..."

"No, you don't," he replied.

I scoffed then, looking away from him. "Look, if you came in here to spout some bullshit about me being incapable of having feelings..."

"I don't think you're incapable of having feelings, Murphy—that's not what I meant," he replied, sounding slightly annoyed. "I mean, I don't think you're capable of having feelings for him—for Josh. I mean, of all people, you had to go out with him."

"We haven't gone out yet, Nicholas. The official date is set for next Tuesday."

"After everything I told you..."

"Look, it doesn't have anything to do with me!" I cried, turning back to look at him. "And besides, you're busy getting into Rachel's pants... And what about Jasmine?!" I demanded, advancing upon him then. "You were in a relationship with her! How come you can go out with people and I can't?!"

Nicholas stiffens at my closeness to him. "I wouldn't care if you went out with anyone, Murphy—anyone—except for Josh. He's the only person I have an opinion about."

"Well, he's the only guy who's asked me out, and I said yes," I said, wondering why I was standing this close to him, due to our mutual volatility. "So, you shouldn't care. We need to keep our private lives private, Nicholas. Don't you think?"

Nicholas stared at me for a moment. "Is that what you want?"

I felt myself swallowing then, attempting to disengage from the conversation, but found that I couldn't, because it was him. "What do you mean?"

"Do you want to keep public and private separate?" he asked.

I felt myself flush, averting my eyes quickly. "If you're implying that you want to keep our privates separate, Nicholas, then I think that's for the best."

"Thinking something's for the best and actually wanting it are two totally different things, as I'm sure you know, Murphy."

I feel my heart beating in my ears, although I still refuse to look up at him. "And how would you know what I want, Nicholas?"

"I know your body, Murphy," Nicholas replied, and it was in that moment that I locked my eyes to his, as my breathing accelerated. "I know it gives off signals, and it's telling me right now that you want me."

I incline my head then, always ready for a challenge, and curious to know if he actually knew all he claimed to know. "Prove it," I replied.

Nicholas grabbed me then, turning me around and taking me immediately towards my desk, laying me down across it as I gasped at his quick movements. It was a relief when I heard him digging into his pocket for a condom, and I felt relief as he allowed me to move my hands and yank down my skirt and panties on my own. Then, oh, sweet mercy, then, he allowed himself to toy with me momentarily before he slipped deliciously inside me.

Instantly, I made a grab for the edges of my desk, turning my face into it to muffle my cries of ecstasy of what he was doing to me. I felt my toes curl as he continued his rhythm, trying to remember how to breath as I counted to ten in my head, then back to one, and, finally, to ten again, which is when the blissful climax occurred. I slumped against my desk for a moment before bending down and yanking up my panties and skirt, trembling at the impact of what the two of us had just done.

Shakily, I turned and walked over to the door, only opening it after Nicholas had organized himself again. "Thank you for your discussions on that matter, Nicholas," I said, trying to keep myself from raising my voice too much. "I will definitely consider it from your point of view and get back to you later."

"See that you do, Murphy," Nicholas replied, smiling at me before departing my company, leaving me to pick up the pieces—literally and figuratively.

. . .

Try as I might, I could not block the following week from my mind as Josh and I finally went out on our first date, on the first of October. Josh was a perfect gentleman—he showed up at the house at the proper hour, and greeted Ian. He brought me a bouquet of roses, which I put into a vase in the kitchen. Josh assured Ian—who, along with Trevor, who would arrive shortly after I left—that he wouldn't have me out too late. Ian did the mock-reluctance tactic, watching as Josh helped me into my coat, but smirked as he kissed me on the cheek.

"Careful with this one," he muttered to me.

"Oh, shut up," I said, playfully shoving him away from me, before Josh took my arm and led me outside to his Lincoln.

"Chez Joël," Josh explained as we got into the car and drove off, "is a lovely French bistro that I discovered one night after I saved my first child."

"Saved your first child?" I asked as we drove through the dark.

"Yeah. Hattie," Josh said with a smile. "She wasn't breathing, but I was about to resuscitate her, and I just went for a drive after my shift was over. I found Chez Joël and it was an amazing experience and I'm never going to forget that night..."

I smiled to myself, pleased at the notion that Josh had saved lives. When we arrived at the restaurant, Josh insisted that we talk about me, and I was relieved when he didn't order an expensive bottle of wine, or drink himself. We just sipped water and talked about our lives, and I even gave him the PG-rated abridged version of my upbringing. Josh was sympathetic, and held my hand during the particularly difficult moments of the story, and I found myself relieved that I could actually talk to him.

We both ordered the steak frites, and I discovered the taste of garlic butter for the first time that night, and found I enjoyed it more than most things. A few times, however, when Josh wasn't looking, I found my mind drifting back to the last several days. My office, the conference room, Nicholas's office—they had all become bases for Nicholas's and my trysts. This time, we'd established that, of course, there were places that were off-limits. For example, even if Hugo and Allie were out for the day, the risk factor was too much to attempt anything in their offices. The staff lounge was also too great a risk, due to the fact that the paralegals and other department attorneys could come in at any time.

For the moment, only those three rooms were acceptable, although the notion that we could get caught in a compromising position was more frightening. I was shocked when Nicholas informed me that he thought the very idea of getting caught was a turn-on. However, as the days had gone by—and my focus on other tasks failed miserably—I found that such a thing was intoxicating to think about. Even now, as I sat across from Josh and attempted to listen as he told me how much he'd wanted to be a doctor growing up—especially after his brother, Desmond, had quit being a surgeon and gone back to school to become a lawyer—he'd really come into his own. Although Desmond seemed to always be the favored son, he felt he was on his way to succeeding in that title, and even though I found I was fighting to listen to him—holding my legs together to prevent any form of excitement from becoming an out-of-body experience—I did my best to smile and nod at his words.

I found that having a baby at home was as good an excuse as any for not ordering dessert, and so Josh agreed to drive me home around eight-thirty. Surprised that I'd managed to keep up my side of the conversation for so long, he drove me home, and I allowed him to hold my hand during the drive itself. Once we arrived back at the house, Josh circled his car and let me out, before walking me through the gate and up the stairs.

"You were quiet tonight."

I smiled up at him. "Sorry. All a bit nerve-wracking, I guess."

Josh smirked. "Do I frighten you, Murphy?"

"Frighten?" I asked him, the word ending on a laugh. "No. No, of course not. I mean... I guess you could say I've never been on a date-date."

Josh raised his eyebrows. "Never?"

I shook my head at him. "No. I mean... Well, you know, where the guy calls a girl and arranges everything...and, oh, my god, I just made this entire conversation heteronormative and I don't even have wine to blame it on. What is the matter with me?"

"You can blame it on exhaustion," Josh said with a laugh. "I do it all the time whenever I inadvertently slip into heteronormative territory."

I laughed then, looking away from him for a moment. "I don't know. I never really liked labels, even before..."

"Before?"

"Well, I... I guess you could make a case for me being bisexual, because of my first relationship with Jessica. Turns out," I said, fidgeting there with my keys, "that therapy is a beautiful thing. It came out in therapy that I was in love with her."

Josh nodded. "Ever think about her?"

"Oh, sometimes," I replied, shrugging my shoulders as I considered her for a moment. "I mean, we're friends on social media."

"What's she up to these days?"

"She's a writer for Vanity Fair," I replied. "Studied journalism on the side and ended up leaving college early when the opportunity came up. Worked her way up as an intern..."

"Do you miss her?"

I sighed. "I don't know. I guess I don't really think much about her," I said quietly, leaning up against the side of the house. "Ever since Dr. Normal walked in on us, I closed myself off from social interaction more than ever... Guess it was just my own personal way of coping."

"Do you wish you were still together?"

I smiled to myself then. "No. Because I don't think it would've worked."

"Why's that?"

I laughed aloud then as I considered it. "I don't know. Maybe because the idea of eating pussy terrified me," I reply, and Josh laughed as well. "I mean, I fucked her, but I'd never let her fuck me, per say. She could put her mouth on me, but fucking me? I drew the line there, and, after a while, she accepted it."

Josh smiled. "Well, I'm glad you know."

"Yeah?" I asked. "Why's that?"

"Because, I'd like to take you out again, Murphy. If that's okay."

I smiled up at him, the only thing illuminating the two of us being the porch light. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that," I reply, stepping towards him, and putting my arms around his neck. "When would you like this to happen, sir?"

"Well..." Josh began, when the door suddenly opened.

I dropped my arms from Josh then, and crossed my arms. "What the fuck are you doing in there, Frank?!" I demanded.

"Kids are upstairs," he replied, turning to Josh. "And who are you?"

"Josh Fairfax, pediatric doctor. Who are you?"

Frank belched, and I felt myself immediately coloring with rage. "Frank Gallagher—father of this one over here," he replied, gesturing to me.

"Jesus, Frank," I said, turning to Josh. "Look, I'm sorry..."

"Hey, it's cool," Josh replied, keeping a wary eye on Frank as he kissed me on the cheek. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Yeah," I replied, watching him go before turning to Frank. "Look, Ian is going to lose his shit if he sees you in there..."

Frank shrugged. "Free country."

"Shut the fuck up," I replied, letting myself in and shoving him out. "This is not your house anymore, so go and find another one and be an asshole somewhere else," I said. "And if I ever catch you in the same building as my daughter again, I will be the one losing my shit," I said, my voice firm as I slammed the door behind me.

. . .

I arrived at the office on Wednesday morning, feeling annoyed that Frank had come in and ruined everything, but pleased that Josh had circled around to the back door, giving me incentive to kiss him goodnight. I was aware that Cindy was taking a sick day that day as I walked into the office, handing over a tea to Rachel, and smiling at her, and she took my smile to mean that something was up. I hesitated for a moment, wanting the feeling of mutual excitement to sink in to the atmosphere for a moment before I spoke.

"Had my date with Josh last night."

"How'd it go?" Rachel asked.

I grinned. "Well, after Frank," I said, rolling my eyes for dramatic effect, as Rachel knew all too well about the issues surrounding my biological father, "decided to step in and attempt to ruin everything, Josh drove around to the back door."

"Yeah?"

"I kissed him goodnight!" I said.

Rachel grinned. "Murphy, that's great!" she cried.

I smiled. "Well, I think so," I said. "Any messages today?"

"Yeah. Here," she said, handing them over. "Oh, and Allie called. Said she wanted to see you in her office about something, first thing."

I nodded. "Thanks," I said, giving her a perplexed look as I made my way down the hallway. I tapped on Allie's office door, and she told me to come in. "Allie?" I asked, stepping inside, feeling like a child sent to the principal's office. "Everything okay?"

Allie sighed. "Come in and sit down, Murphy."

"Sure," I replied, doing as she said. "Something up with Charlotte?"

"No." Allie's shoulders slacked then, looking uncomfortable. "Look, there's been a development within our ranks..."

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yes. And it seems that Nicholas would like to take a step back from things, and take some personal time to be with Charlotte."

"Oh," I said quietly. "Oh, I see..."

"Yes. Only for a few weeks, at this point."

"But... You said treatment was going well—"

"And it is," Allie assured me. "But, you just reach a point where doctors and patients alike would prefer the families to prepare for the worse."

I nodded. "Understood."

"In the meantime—the Farris case," Allie went on. "I will be taking over Nicholas's position, and the work you two have been working so hard on has been transferred to my department. I will need a few days to review it, but once that's done, I think we'll have a good shot to nail whoever did this..."

I kept nodding to Allie then, just as I had done to Josh the night before, as my thoughts drifted back to Nicholas again. He'd been strangely quiet these last twenty-four hours, and I immediately knew why. He was punishing me; that's what it was, plain and simple. He was punishing me for going out with Josh, and he wanted the opportunity to mourn without being seen by anyone related to the situation because, whether he liked it or not, in his odd way, he cared for me, and I found myself at a loss as to why that was.